


Sixth Orbit

by Omeganixtra



Series: a map 'cross the stars [12]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure to Enceladus, Cocky Guardians, F/M, Relationship Issues, as well as the Long Slow Whisper, my take on what the Deep Stone Crypt actually is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:05:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omeganixtra/pseuds/Omeganixtra
Summary: Through dedication to the man she loves, the Guardian sets out to find the Deep Stone Crypt in an attempt to right whatever it was that Clovis Bray did to Cayde all those years ago.





	Sixth Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should admit to a problem with how much Destiny content I've been throwing out here recently... _OH WELL _!__

YPE: Transcript.  
DESCRIPTION: Conversation.  
FIRETEAM: D.I.A.  
ASSOCIATIONS: Quill, Meera—HUNTER DESIGNATION; Shornell, Zalli—TITAN DESIGNATION; Solaris, Tora—WARLOCK DESIGNATION; Dreadnought—unknown coordinates  
//AUDIO UNAVAILABLE//  
//TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS.../

SHORNELL: DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS?

SOLARIS: DON’T CARE, BIG GUY—IT’S SHINY, I WANT IT.

SHORNELL: THAT IS OBVIOUSLY NOT SOMETHING THAT WE SHOULD JUST—

QUILL: TORA, GET THAT THING QUARANTINED OFF. WE DON’T KNOW WHAT KIND OF WEIRD SHIT THE HIVE’S BEEN SPITTING OUT OVER ALL THE STUFF HERE.

SOLARIS: EURGH, THAT’S _DISGUSTING_. YOU DO IT, MEE.

QUILL: I THOUGHT YOU WANTED IT.

SOLARIS: THIS IS OBVIOUSLY AN ORNAMENT OR SOMETHING FOR A HUNTER, NOT SOMETHING THAT A DISTINGUISED WARLOCK LIKE I SHOULD WASTE MY TIME ON.

QUILL: DISTINGUISED, EH? _SURE_.

SOLARIS: SHOW SOME RESPECT, YOU ILLITERATE HEATHEN OF A HUNTER.

SHORNELL: _THEN EARN IT_.

SOLARIS: WOW, MITE HARSH THERE, BUD.

SHORNELL: THAT’S REALITY, BOOKS-FOR-BRAINS.

SOLARIS: YOU WANNA GO, HUH, GREYSCALE? REALLY?

SHORNELL: OH, FOR THE LOVE OF—STOP USING TERMS FROM THAT OLD SERIES, FUCKS’S SAKE, TORA!

SOLARIS: THEN MAKE ME!

QUILL: BOTH OF YOU QUIT IT, HIVE AROUND THE CORNER!

 

[pause in transcription. reactivated after 00:42:02]

 

SOLARIS: MEE, I FUCKING HATE YOU FOR DRAGGING US ALONG IN THIS.

QUILL: FUCK OFF AND GO COMPLAIN TO CAYDE, HE’S THE ONE WHO GOT US HERE.

SOLARIS: I CAN’T DO THAT, HE’S THE FUCKING VANGUARD. I’LL BE PUT ON LATRINE DUTY, OR SOMETHING!

SHORNELL: AND YOUR FAVORITE DRINKING-BUDDY, DON’T FORGET THAT. ALSO, WE DON’T EVEN _HAVE_ LATRINES.

SOLARIS: WHAT, WE _DON’T_? THEN WHAT THE HELL WAS I DIGGIN’ UP FOR REN THE OTHER DAY?

QUILL: BEFORE BOTH OF YOU CONTINUE DRAGGING OUR GUARDIAN-REPUTATION THROUGH THE MUD, I HOPE YOU REALIZE THAT ALL OF THIS IS GOING INTO THE OFFICIAL REPORT, RIGHT?

 

[pause in transcription]

 

SOLARIS: YOU’RE JOKING RIGHT?

QUILL: DOES IT _LOOK_ LIKE I’M JOKING? OUR GHOSTS ARE RECORDING EVERYTHING, DIPSHIT.

SOLARIS: I’M GOING TO _KILL_ YOU, QUILL.

QUILL: YEAH, YEAH, GET IN LINE, ASSHOLE.

 

[end transcription]

 

* * *

 

 _Four years later_ …

 

* * *

 

 

“You sure got scammed this time, Mee,” Tora shudders as a gale of icy blows against him, has his robes flicker wildly behind him as he crosses his arms and rubs his hands against his upper arms. “This is a dump if I’ve ever seen one.”

Above them in the dark coldness of space the Fireteam sees the wrecked rings of Saturn, sees the still circle of clear space surrounding the Dreadnought. If they strain their eyes, they can just barely make out the wrecked Awoken and Hive ships drifting among the debris, frozen in time. Below, there is nothing but icy plains as far as the eyes can see, a few spots elevated by cryovolcanoes that spew out vapors from further inside the icy moon.

“A dump that’s gotten us further than anything else has this past year.”

“Does it even matter now? We’re stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere with the closest bastion of civilization being either whoever’s dumb enough to still check up on the Dreadnought or fucking _Asher Mir_ on Io!”

“Could be worse,” Zalli quips at the two of them from where he’s sitting against the icy outcropping they’ve stopped at, wincing every time his shoulder is jostled by the underground tremors. “Could be Failsafe.”

“Shut your whore mouth back there, Failsafe’s practically a wet dream compared to the other two.”

“Don’t let her virgin ears hear you say that, Tora.”

“Could we connect to the old beacons above the Dreadnought? Use them to bounce off the Vanguard channels and contact the Tower for assistance?” Meera asks, voice quiet and belying the stress and anxiety that’s slowly beginning to take over her mind.

“Who would even pay attention to those channels anymore? They’ve probably been scrapped since the Cabal destroyed the old Tower.”

“It can’t hurt to try.”

“You’re an idiot for believing that.”

“So fucking be it. Better an idiot who tried than an idiot who accepted without question,” she snaps and stalks away, doesn’t stop until she’s on the very edge of the outcrop they’re hiding by.

Her Ghost hovers closer, nestles against the spot between her cloak and gauntlets. “Meera?”

“Ghost…” she whispers. “I—I’m not sure we’re gettin’ out of this alive.”

“I’ll try boosting signals to both the Dreadnought and to Io. The Vanguard will get the signal, don’t you worry.”

“The signals won’t reach Io, little guy—it’s too far away. As for the Dreadnought… well, Tora’s right about the beacons most likely being abandoned.”

“Well, we still have to _try_.”

Her former enthusiasm is apparently rubbing off on her Ghost now. Meera spits out a curse and raises a hand to rub against one of her Ghost’s fins. When she looks back at her friends, Tora is snorting in disbelief, probably because of the shit-tastic situation they’re stuck in, and shakes his head before he goes back to Zalli, kneels down in order to get a better look on the Titan’s wounded shoulder.

“We never should have come here.”

“A bit late for regrets, don’t you think?” Meera calls back at him.

“We never should have listened to that absolute madman! It’s because of him that we’re in this fucking mess in the first place! If we had just _waited_ and not rushed in like absolute retards, we might not have been shot out of the fucking sky by anti-aircraft firepower!”

“I know that, Tora!” she finally snaps and whirls around in utter fury. “I fucking _know_ , alright? You were right to be hesitant and I was too fucking high on wanting to discover something for my own gain, for wanting to reclaim something from back when humanity wasn’t cowering behind walls like animals, and maybe, _just maybe_ , do something for the man I love!”

“And what a treat it’s been so far, huh?”

“We’re not going to accomplish much by sitting out here like this,” Zalli grunts and pushes off from the ground with the help of Tora. “Whatever shot us down came from a southeastern direction. If we go towards it, we might just find proper shelter from whatever shot at us.”

“Or, and this is just a stray thought, mind you,” Tora says with a twisted grin. “We just might get blown to bits, alongside our Ghosts and never ever make it back in order to make a report to Big, Blue and Loud as to why we were out in the ass-end of the Sol System, chasing something that might not even _be_ here.”

“Fuck’s sake, Tora, be serious, would you?” Zalli snaps at the other Awoken and pinches his arm through the thick robes. “We can’t afford to be at each other’s throats right now. You can save that shit for when we’re somewhere where the temperature is somewhere far above -198 degrees Celsius.”

Tora scoffs at that but nonetheless quiets down as he takes up the rear end of their little party, auto rifle in hand and a grim expression on his face.

“Lead the way, esteemed leader.”

 

* * *

 

When she receives the anonymous message on her comm about someone having inside information regarding the Bray Corporation, Meera just about spits out the beer she’s nursing. She settles with choking violently instead.

Her Ghost materializes after her coughing and wheezing begins reaching worrisome levels of noise and a passing patron slams her on the back in a fit of helpfulness.

It could be worse, all in all.

After that she staggers out of the bar, worried Ghost in tow, and somehow fumbles her way into a nearby alley through her fogged-up, coughing-induced unfocused vision.

As soon as she’s somewhat alright once more she’s off, ignoring every confused question that her Ghost throws at her.

Because there’s a lead. There’s finally— _fucking finally_ —a lead that has the potential to fix _everything_.

Meera follows the coordinates blindly, stumbling her way through the undercroft of the Tower and ends up in a dingy storeroom, only lit up by a solitary lightbulb that’s sure as shit seen much better days.

The contact is already there, grinning like an absolute maniac and flipping a green coin between his fingers. First impression of the guy is not anything special. A few scars on the face that certainly makes the curiosity in her rear its ugly head, but she wasn’t raised in a barn, she knows politeness. Instead she just looks at him without saying a word.

The man throws a battered, old-school book at her in retaliation.

“Rumor has it that it’s on Enceladus.”

Meera glares at the man in front of her with suspicion, eyebrows shot straight towards her hairline when she sneaks a peak at the book in her hand, “Enceladus? _Really_?”

“Would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know you well enough to be the judge of that.”

“Well, might have to remedy that, huh, sister?”

“Maybe,” Meera says. “Possibly. Depends on what more you can tell me.”

“Aah, but I don’t work for free. Got to have somethin’ worth my time for me to keep handin’ out info like it’s candy.”

“I don’t have any information of my own that I can hand over without triggering at _least_ fifty different security breaches.”

The man clicks with his tongue, for a moment stopping the coin-flipping to instead lift a finger straight at her. “Hmm, how ‘bout that?”

She looks down to her chest where the older man is pointing, sees the charm that she’d picked up on the Dreadnought all those years ago.

“This old thing? It’s a Hunter-artefact.”

“Where’d you get a beauty like that?”

“Hop onboard the Dreadnought and I’ll show you.”

“The Dreadnought, huh? Damn, you go some interestin’ places there…”

“I suppose you can say that.”

“A real Guardian of the City, down to the last drop’o Light, huh.”

“And what about you?”

“What _‘bout_ me?”

“Where do you fit into all of this?”

“Now, that’d be tellin’, sister. I might be plenty’o dark’n grim things, but a snitch ain’t one of’em.”

 

* * *

 

In the beginning she hasn’t even thought much about it all.

The Deep Stone Crypt, that is.

It’s something that sits in the back of her head, rummaging and rearing its ugly head whenever Cayde’s in a bad place, whenever he wakes with a start and it takes him so long to recognize where he is, who she is, what they’re doing.

But the first time it happens she is scared shitless.

It’s in the middle of the night when it happens, both of them making up a tangled mess amidst bedsheets and comforters.

Then there’s chaos as Cayde explodes with a roar loud enough to cut out his voice units and his orange backlighting flickering irregularly. Meera grapples for a moment as she fights the disorientation and tries desperately to figure out what’s going on, but then there’s a metal hand around her lower throat and a knife in his hand and Cayde is leaning over her with _murder_ written in his eyes.

There’s a brief moment there where Meera completely forgets how to _breathe_ and instead just stares straight at Cayde with wide, disbelieving eyes as she heaves in one startled breath after another.

“C-Cayde?”

He doesn’t answer her. He just stares at her, unblinking, as his eyes drills straight into hers.

“ _Cayde_!” Sundance squeaks as she materializes in a burst of light and collides harshly with the base of his born. It makes her bounce back through the air, but the action is apparently enough to shake him out of whatever stupor he’s found himself in.

Meera’s never seen an Exo on the verge of tears before, but she is almost certain that _this_ is how they would look as Cayde’s face crumbles at the sight that meets him—his hand wrapped around her throat, another ready to stick a knife in her at the slightest provocation, the way she’s flushed from the shock and adrenaline that’s rushing through her body.

He hurls the knife away, immediately releases her throat and instead gathers her into his arms and buries his head against her neck.

“Deep Stone,” he rasps, “I was at the Crypt, the Deep Stone Crypt, no please—no—I-I _can’t_!”

As she holds him tight against her, shoulders every shudder and groaning sob he forces out, Meera decides right then and there that finding that Traveler-forsaken place, finding the Deep Stone Crypt and _wrecking it_ until nothing remains but cinders and ash will be her goal in life, even if it’s the last fucking thing she does.

 

* * *

 

It escalates from there—days bleed into weeks bleed into _months_.

 

* * *

 

“Can you imagine the ass-whooping we’re gonna get when we get back to the City?”

“ _If_ we get back, you mean.”

“Yeah,” Tora sighs. “That.”

“You’re not being very optimistic right now.”

“Yeah, well… right now I’m actually just glad that I had my Ghost download all those memes from before the Collapse. I have to tell you, Earth’s internet back in the day was _hilarious_.”

“We’re slowly freezing to death somewhere on the ass-end of Enceladus, and you’re looking at _memes_?”

“I choose how I die, sweetie,” Tora nods sagely and swaps a hand over his screen. “Now, leave an old man to die in peace.”

“Fuck off,” Zalli shoves his shoulder against Tora and ignores how the Warlock’s fist connects with his thigh-armor. “You’re too young to die like this.”

“Oh, and how’d you do it then?”

“Die?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, for starters… I wish I’d actually had the courage to talk to the bartender who mans the Raunchy Ghost on Sundays. She’s pretty cute.”

“Buddy, I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but she’s…  not into men, Zalli.”

“What the—she’s _not_?”

“Uh, no? Pretty sure she’s a girl-only entrance kinda gal.”

“Are you _shitting_ me right now?”

“ _No_! I swear on the Speaker’s left nut, I saw her with her tongue buried somewhere deep down in the throat of some Awoken chick back a few months ago.”

Zalli growls at that and shoves against Tora’s shoulder. When the Warlock collides into Meera’s lap, the Hunter shoots both of them a sour look.

“Could you guys be quiet?” she grumbles and pushes Tora out of her lap with one hand, while the other grips her hand cannon tighter. “We’re still far out from that blank spot on the radar.”

“Could you maybe _not_ be such a sourpuss and instead join me on this wonderful journey into the old forums of this thing called ‘4Chan’?”

“Tora, your idiocy is showing.”

“Fuck off.”

 

* * *

 

Meera is not the most subtle of creatures, that’s something that she has come to terms with several years ago when she was first resurrected as a Guardian and promptly stumbled upon a Fallen Archon of all things.

This lack of subtlety therefore results in her getting cornered by both Tora and Zalli not long after her obsession with the Deep Stone Crypt has truly taken root in her mind. Honestly, she can’t really say that she’s surprised.

“You do realize that there’s probably a reason why no one has found that place yet, right?”

Meera straightens her back at Zalli’s question and scowls. “I don’t give a damn. I’m through seeing the man I love drift further and further away every time he goes to sleep and wakes up ready to _kill_.”

They’re out in the open, sitting in one of the gardens above the Tower bazaar. The wind blows gently against their faces, the sound of birds chirping to their little hearts’ content can be heard in the bushes and shrubbery around them.

All in all, so very peaceful.

“Listen, Meera,” Tora sighs and grabs her by the shoulder. “I love you, girl, I really do, but there are just… some things are better left off alone.”

“You’re not the one having to sit by and do _nothing_ as—”

“Meera,” Zalli cuts in sharply. “We’re not trying to undermine how important this thing is to you. What we’re saying is that you should not do this. It’s too dangerous!”

“I’ve taken on the Black Garden,” she hisses, ignoring Tora commenting “With _us_ beside you.” without even flinching. “I’ve slain Hive gods and help free the Traveler from Ghaul’s pig-brained idea of subjugation. Do you really think that something like the Crypt will be too hard to handle for me?”

“Bad things happen when Guardians get cocky,” Zalli bites out. “Look at Andal Brask and tell me otherwise.”

“Brask went alone,” Meera replies, smug. “I won’t.”

“Oh really?” Tora questions. “And just who do you think are dumb enough to actually go with you on a scheme like this?”

Meera’s smug expression only grows.

 

* * *

 

_Oliver Yakovich._

That’s the name of the man who’s written the book that her lead, the Drifter, had given her.

_Oliver Yakovich._

Such a normal-sounding name for such a normal-looking book.

 _Oliver Yakovich_.

What she doesn’t expect is the sheer amount of nightmarish thoughts written down inside.

Passages tell of how there are holes in the man’s memory somewhere out in the far reaches of the Sol System, how the Bray Corporation lured him out there with promises of grandeur and glory and milestones for science that he will be a part of. How Nobel-prizes will rain down from above, how his family will never again want for anything, no matter what happens.

In the beginning it all sounds so… innocent. She can almost feel it drip off the worn, moth-eaten pages that she flips through.

But then it begins.

Slowly, at first, with Yakovich asking questions to himself about what the days have actually been passed doing, because there are _holes_ in his memory, and holes are not good, no matter who you are.

Meera would know. Everything from before her resurrection as a Guardian is one big blank.

But it escalates.

Visits from his family are no longer allowed, he cannot leave the facilities, and every single word in that fucking journal is tainted with dread and fear.

“ _I heard men and women last night_ ,” a passage reads and continues, “ _They were all crying for help, screaming that this wasn’t what they wanted, that all they had wanted was to find a way for them to be with their children so that the Unknown would not separate them forever_.”

Meera cries in the end. The carefully constructed walls that she has made before setting out on this mad dash of an adventure are tumbling down with every page that she eats up.

There’s one evening as she prepares for the journey, in the safety of the housing unit she shares with Cayde, that he finds her crying on the floor with the book clutched to her chest. She never tells him what the book has written in it, only says that she found it in the ruins of the part of the city still tainted by the ruins from the Red War, and it doesn’t take much more avoiding before he leaves her be, assumes that she has found a diary of a civilian and won’t let their memory fade.

She doesn’t bother to correct him, because in a way Cayde is absolutely right. It’s only the time and location that differs from the illusion she’s wrapped him in.

But she can’t give up when she is so close to finding out the location that she seeks. She cannot afford to simply trust the stranger’s words, not when so much is at stake.

Because now it is no longer about shutting down the Deep Stone Crypt for Cayde.

Clovis Bray has made it personal as she has read through the last thoughts of Oliver Yakovich, the man who gave his life to science and was shafted from every possible direction in return.

Now it is about Cayde, about the man she loves, but it is also about Oliver Yakovich, about the men, about the women, the children, the elderly—all those who placed their trust and their lives in the hands of Clovis Bray and who got turned into machines of war in return.

It’s only when she’s read through it all that the location of her target is given.

“ _In the sixth orbit of the sixth planet. That was all they would tell me._ ”

She’s found it.

She’s found the Crypt.

 _It’s on Enceladus_.

 

* * *

 

“Vanguard Commander Zavala, a message has arrived from beyond the Reef.”

Zavala straightens from where he’s been bent over several maps and architectural drawings of the City. He turns and nods at the technician who has approached him.

“Report.”

“We picked up a message bouncing off the old beacons planted on the Dreadnought still within Saturn’s orbit a few hours ago, but were unable to pinpoint where it came from until a few moments ago. It’s a distress call broadcasting directly through the old Vanguard channels.”

“Through what authorization code?”

“OR-66, Sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“T-the authorization code, Sir. It’s OR-66.”

The paper still in Zavala’s hand crumbles under the sudden pressure.

“Get Vanguard Ikora Rey and Cayde-6 up here, _immediately_!”

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Zavala accepts the tablet containing the message from the hands of the technician before he is sent on his way. “All personnel beneath security clearance sixteen is to leave the Tower bridge this instant!” he bellows and comes to a stop before the maps he was bent over only moments ago.

The very moment that the entire room has emptied out he plays the message, listens to every second of it and runs just about every single test that he can think of, until he finally has a location. Zavala frowns at the data shown to him on the tablet, runs the information through the analytics software once again, yet the result remains the same.

No matter what, the result remains the same. He remains tense, swallows in an attempt to loosen the lump stuck in his throat. When the doors open to reveal both Ikora and Cayde striding in with worried expressions on their faces, Zavala only lets out a harried sigh and gestures for them to come closer.

“The names Zalli and Tora, do they mean something to either of you?”

“A Titan and Warlock, if I remember correctly,” Ikora says. “Both specializing in Arc.”

“Tora’s definitely familiar,” Cayde mutters and scratches absentmindedly at the base of his horn. “He’s a Warlock, right?”

“Yes,” Ikora nods, “He is one of the newer Stormcallers I’ve been mentoring lately. Last I heard he had joined his Fireteam on some missions in and around the Reef, not stuck out in Saturn’s orbit.”

“What Fireteam are we talkin’ here?”

“D.I.A.,” Zavala growls.

“ _What_?!” Cayde hisses. “ _What_ Fireteam did you just say is out there?!”

“You heard me, Cayde,” Zavala snaps and then gestures to the tablet in front of him. “This involves all of us. The message that arrived mentions both of them, hence my query.”

“Play it,” Cayde says, uncharacteristically tense as his arms cross and his brow-plates meet in a frown.

Without further comment Zavala presses ‘play’ once more. The audio is filled with erratic static at first before, finally, something recognizable can he heard.

_“City Tower, this is Fireteam D.I.A., requesting extraction from Enceladus’ southern pole! I repeat, this is Fireteam—fuck!”_

The sound of a gun going off several times close to the comm echoes as muffled cursing follows.

_“Zalli, you alright?!”_

_“I’m fine, keep firing at them, Tora, I’m still broadcasting! City Tower, please respond, this is Zalli Shornell of the Titan Faction, requesting extraction for Fireteam D.I.A. posthaste! Hostiles have surrounded us with no means of escape, the jumpships have all been destroyed by the hostil—oh shit, Tora!”_

The silence inside the briefing room is almost deafening following what they've just heard.

“That message was broadcasted with authorization code OR-66. Something that hasn’t been in use since the during the Taken War where the transmat zone aboard the Dreadnought was created,” Zavala says quietly. “More specifically it was sent through Vanguard channels using OR-66.”

“Wait a hot minute there, that’s the channel that I used back when Mee—”

“Back when Guardian Quill, undercover, was sent aboard the Dreadnought in order to establish a beachhead for the rest of our forces, yes,” Zavala nods at Cayde’s comment and turns to look directly at his Exo colleague. “Cayde, would there be any reason for her to have gone under the radar?”

“No, there’s nothing that I can think of,” Cayde begins and steps away from the table to instead begin to pace. “No, no, there’s nothing but—oh _fuck_ , she can’t have been that stupid!”

“Cayde?”

“Meera, she—” Cayde snarls and hurls a fist into one of the nearby supporting beams, causing both Ikora and Zavala to look at him in concern. “ _Fuck_!”

“Cayde, talk to us,” Ikora urges and takes a step in his direction before Zavala stops her.

“She’s been distant for several weeks,” Cayde spits out as he turns around to look at the other Vanguards. “It’s been like that ever since we got to talking ‘bout the Deep Stone Crypt.”

“The Crypt?” Ikora frowns. “Why on Earth would you talk about—”

“She saw the aftermath following one of my dreams,” Cayde interrupts. “I didn’t think much about it afterwards, just thought that it took her a while to really shake off how bad it can get sometimes, but it musta… _fucking Hell_!”

“Are you telling us that there’s a Fireteam out beyond Saturn right now, apparently successful in finding the Deep Stone Crypt?”

“I don’t know.”

“Cayde, you have to give us _something_ here.”

“Look, _I don’t know_!” he bellows. “I didn’t know that she would do this, that she would be idiotic enough to actually try and find the fucking thing!”

“Zavala, do we have a proper location?” Ikora cuts in, a harried expression on her face as she looks to her colleague with beseeching eyes. “There must be something we can do here.”

“I ran analytics while waiting,” Zavala swallows. “The signal bounced off the Dreadnought beacons from Enceladus.”

Cayde’s expression says all they need to know.

 

* * *

 

“How long have we been walking now?”

“For about five hours,” Zalli’s Ghost chirps as it floats closer to its designated Guardian. “The temperature is dropping, too.”

“Oh, _lovely_ ,” Tora quips from behind the two of them. “ _Just_ what we needed!”

“It’s strange, though,” Zalli’s Ghost continues. “I’ve been scanning the terrain now for quite a while, but it’s almost as if there’s something… blocking me.”

“Blocking you?” Meera asks and turns around, bringing a halt to their little group. “What do you mean?”

“Something’s blocking my scans,” the Ghost repeats and bobs up and down in the air. “It’s as if there’s just… nothing.”

For a moment Meera catches Zalli and Tora’s attention. “You think we’re close?”

“It has to be,” Tora agrees. “Clovis Bray ain’t stupid, though. They’ve probably cloaked the entire facility, or whatever it is, to Hell and back.”

“Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“We could try getting through whatever it is out there that’s blocking us,” Meera’s Ghost says as he materializes beside her. “But we’ll have to get closer.”

“ _Of course_ _we do_ ,” Tora groans. “Urgh, for crying out loud, I didn’t sign up for a fucking marathon when I said yes to this.”

“You didn’t say yes to any of this,” Meera sighs and turns away from her friends. “I fucked up from the moment I accepted the help from the Drifter.”

Tora huffs and comes up beside her to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Trust me, sweetie, we’re gonna be showin’ up by his doorstep the moment we’re back and kick some serious ass.”

“No, you’re not,” she shakes her head and attempts to wrestle out of his hold, with little luck. “Tora, you and Zalli are going straight to the Vanguard the moment we are back and will report me for insubordination.”

“Right, pull the other one.”

“I’m serious. I am not going to take you down with me!”

“And you won’t. The only one who’s at fault here is that Drifter-fella, and no one else. He could have just stopped while it was still all fun and games, and just _not_ give you the information about the Crypt.”

“I’d have found it anyway.”

“Probably. But he still could have chosen not to give you the info.”

Meera sighs. “Somehow I don’t think it’s that easy.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey there, lovely,” Cayde greets as he leans against the doorframe leading into the bedroom. “You a’right?”

Meera looks up from where she’s sitting on the floor, her backpack’s contents spread out all over the comforter and around her. For a moment she looks… well, ‘confused’ is probably the best word that he can describe her with, before she shoots him a quick smile.

“Everything’s just fine, cowboy,” she smiles and blows him a kiss. “Just preparing.”

“You goin’ out?”

“Tora and Zalli’s got some bounties that need completing. They need someone to keep’em in check.”

“Where’s the tour going?”

“The Reef.”

“How long?”

“Oh, a few days—at most I’ll be gone a week, so don’t go missing me too soon, now.”

Cayde grins, “I’ll start missin’ you from the moment you’re past the ramp to the ship, probably.”

Meera puts down the rifle she’s been checking and stands up from the ground to instead hop over to stand in front of him, her arms snaking around his waist to bring them closer. His arms automatically respond in turn by wrapping around her.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” she promises and presses her lips to his chest. “I’ll even stay on Earth for a while after, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she nods before leaning back her head to smile up at him. “Think it’ll be about time for cashing in on some of those off-days.”

“Oh, well now you’ve _definitely_ got me invested, babe!”

 

* * *

 

YPE: Transcript.  
DESCRIPTION: Conversation.  
FIRETEAM: D.I.A.  
ASSOCIATIONS: Quill, Meera—HUNTER DESIGNATION; Shornell, Zalli—TITAN DESIGNATION; Solaris, Tora—WARLOCK DESIGNATION; Enceladus—unknown coordinates  
//AUDIO UNAVAILABLE//  
//TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS.../

SOLARIS: SO… THIS IS IT, THEN? THIS IS THE CRYPT?

GH-QUILL: DOWN THERE SOMEWHERE, YES. WHENEVER I PUT OUT SCANS, THEY JUST… BOUNCE OFF OF SOMETHING STRAIGHT AHEAD.

SOLARIS: THAT VALLEY IS MORE THAN TWO THOUSAND METERS DOWN. YOU’RE SAYING THAT THERE’S A CLOAKING DEVICE EXTENDING THIS FAR UP FROM THE BOTTOM OF THAT SHITHOLE?

GH-QUILL: IN SHORT? YES.

QUILL: WHAT’S THE LONG EXPLANATION, THEN?

GH-QUILL: I… DON’T THINK YOU’D UNDERSTAND A SINGLE WORD OF IT. NOT EVEN _I_ GET HOW THEY’VE MANAGED TO DO IT, BUT THEN AGAIN, THE GOLDEN AGE MANAGED TO ENGINEER SO MANY DIFFERENT MARVELS.

SOLARIS: TRUE ENOUGH.

SHORNELL: SO, WHAT, WE JUST JUMP DOWN? SORRY TO SAY, BUT I’M PRETTY SURE THAT TORA AND I WILL JUST STRAIGHT UP BREAK OUR DAINTY, LITTLE ANKLES IN _THAT_ ADVENTURE, SEEING AS WE DON’T HAVE THOSE FANCY-PANSY HUNTER ABILITIES.

QUILL: YOU COULD ALSO JUST CRAWL DOWN. NO ONE’S ASKING YOU TO JUMP STRAIGHT OUT LIKE A BLOODY LUNATIC.

SOLARIS: NAH, WE’LL JUST LEAVE THAT FOR YOU.

QUILL: THANKS FOR THE VOTE OF CONFIDENCE THERE, GUYS.

SOLARIS: RIGHT, RIGHT, NOW GO JUMP OFF THE FUCKING CLIFF ALREADY!

 

[end transcription]

 

* * *

 

The revelation that a Fireteam has breached Enceladus has yet to get the Vanguard to quiet down, even after several hours of vehement, heated discussion.

“If it were up to me, I’d be off quicker than a dreg starved of ether seeing an empty cache of the nasty stuff, but I ain’t someone to just run off without a plan,” Cayde snaps as he glares at both of his colleagues. “Least of all when one of the Guardians currently out in that particular ass-end of the Sol System is one that I have a certain fondness for.”

“You being personally involved with one of the Guardians on that Fireteam is something entirely else that we will have to discuss further at a later date, Cayde, but as for the current situation we must still figure out how we are to resolve this,” Zavala spits out from where he stands at the head of the table. “A dedicated, trusted group of Guardians could go out there, extract the Fireteam and bring them back here.”

“This is no simple extraction matter! How will you be able to ensure that the Guardians chosen for this will continue to hold their silence in regards to this situation?”

“Ikora’s right on that point, Big Guy,” Cayde agrees. “Maybe it’d be better if we left ourselves.

“We cannot simply leave the City to—”

“Zavala, we might just very well not have a choice!” Ikora cuts in ruthlessly. “This is a matter too sensitive to allow in normal Guardian hands, and you know it.”

“The Consensus will never allow it.”

“I _hate_ to be the voice of reason here, trust me, I do, _but_ ,” Cayde sighs. “But this time Zavala’s right, Ikora. There’s no way that they’d allow all three members of the Vanguard to just up and leave in order to chase some random Fireteam out beyond the Reefs.”

“Be that as it may, I can think of no one I’d trust this information with, not among the Warlocks that I command.”

“And neither can I with my Titans,” Zavala growls as he glares at the hologram of Enceladus in front of him. “Yet, our hands and feet are tied.”

“Why can’t this just be like back during the Red War with me, Io and a shitload of Cabal? Urgh, they’re so much easier to handle in a fight.”

“Cayde, _focus_. _You_ of all people are most certainly _not_ going rogue to Enceladus.”

“Well, there must be _someone_ that we can leave in charge if we’re gonna be out there saving the asses of our subordinates,” Cayde leans against the table, his tone casual despite all of his body coiled tight. “What about Shaxx?”

“The City would devolve into anarchy and a wide-spread Crucible before we’d even taken of.”

“The Cryptarchy, then?”

“Cayde, are you even _listening_ to yourself right now?”

“Hey, I don’t see you coming with any ideas here!”

“Cayde, Zavala, arguing like this won’t solve anything.”

“And neither will standing around be of any help!”

“Could we call on those who have held Vanguard positions before?”

“Who, Osiris and Lord Saladin? I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you _wanted_ a nuclear meltdown in the heart of command, Ikora.”

“Then… what do we do?”

Ikora sits down in a chair, face buried in her hands, “I don’t know, Cayde… I just… _don’t know_.”

“I don’t suppose writing a note would do?”

“At this point I’m desperate enough to actually just go with that idea,” Ikora sighs. “What other choice do we even have the luxury to have here?”

“It just might work, actually,” Zavala says and looks at his colleagues. “Us leaving orders to be followed in our absence.”

“There’d be no way in ensure that it would actually happen.”

“See,” Cayde grins. “ _That_ is where we call in guys like Shaxx. Say what you will about lettin’ the guy be a stand-in Vanguard, but he’s a veteran of Twilight Gap, _and_ he has a way of ensuring things getting done. If left alone, I’m sure that he’d end up having the City run as smoothly as possible through sheer strength of will alone.”

Ikora straightens up in the chair she has claimed for her own. “Then all that remains is figuring out how to get out to Enceladus.”

“Oh, if we’re goin’ on a merry chase after something made by the Clovis Bray Corporation, I think we all know of a Hunter who’d love nothing else than help out here.”

“Anastasia Bray?”

“Anastasia Bray,” Cayde nods.

 

* * *

 

YPE: Transcript.  
DESCRIPTION: Conversation.  
FIRETEAM: D.I.A.  
ASSOCIATIONS: Quill, Meera—HUNTER DESIGNATION; Shornell, Zalli—TITAN DESIGNATION; Solaris, Tora—WARLOCK DESIGNATION; Enceladus—unknown coordinates  
//AUDIO UNAVAILABLE//  
//TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS.../

[the sound of doors opening is heard]

 

SHORNELL: WELL, THIS IS… CERTAINLY SOMETHING.

SOLARIS: _HOLY SHIT_ , ARE YOU SEEING THIS, YOU GUYS?

QUILL: QUIET, TORA. WE DON’T KNOW WHAT’S INSIDE OF HERE.

CB-AI: SECURITY BREACH! PLEASE STATE YOUR CREDENTIALS AT THE NEAREST TERMINAL OR SECURITY WILL BE CALLED TO HAVE YOU ESCORTED OFF THE PREMISES.

SOLARIS: EXCUS—WHAT THE _FUCK_?!

SHORNELL: BE. QUIET.

QUILL: GHOST, HAND OVER CREDENTIALS FROM ISHTAR ACADEMY.

GH-QUILL: WHAT, YOU MEAN THE—?

CB-AI: I REPEAT, PLEASE STATE YOUR CREDENTIALS AT THE NEAREST TERMINAL OR SECURITY WILL BE CALLED TO HAVE YOU ESCORTED OFF THE PREMISES.

QUILL: _GHOST_!

GH-QUILL: T-TRANSFERRING DATA NOW.

 

[pause in transcription. reactivated after 00:00:10]

 

CB-AI: DR. SHIM AND GUESTS, WELCOME TO EXO FACILITY ENC-01, CREATED AND FUNDED BY THE CLOVIS BRAY CORPORATION TO FURTHER THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF MANKIND. I WISH YOU AND YOUR GUESTS A PLEASANT WORK DAY.

SOLARIS: A’RIGHT, I DON’T CARE WHAT ANY OF YOU THINK, BUT THAT WAS FUCKING CREEPY. WHAT EVEN _IS_ THAT?

CB-AI: MR. SOLARIS, I AM TH—

SOLARIS: _WHY THE FUCK DOES IT KNOW MY NAME_?!

QUILL: BECAUSE GHOST TOLD IT!

CB-AI: —ECOND GENERATION AI, MANUFACTURED BY THE CLOVIS BRAY CORPORATION TO ENSURE THE SECURITY AND A HEALTHY WORK ENVIRONTMENT FOR THE EMPLOYEES OF THIS FACILITY.

SHORNELL: AH, IT’S LIKE FAILSAFE, THEN. JUST… CLOVIS BRAY INSTEAD. AND WITHOUT THE CREEPY TWIN.

CB-AI: I AM AFRAID THAT I DO NOT POSSESS KNOWLEDGE OF THIS ‘FAILSAFE’ THAT YOU ARE REFERRING TO.

SHORNELL: DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, SHE’S ANOTHER AI THAT WE KNOW OF.

CB-AI: I WAS UNAWARE THAT FURTHER AI HAD BEEN CREATED SINCE THE LAST TIME I HAD EMPLOYEES CHECKING IN. I AM MOST PLEASED TO HEAR THIS.

SHORNELL: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME THAT AN EMPLOYEE CHECKED IN HERE? OUT OF CURIOSITY, OF COURSE.

CB-AI: IT HAS BEEN THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY-TWO YEARS, SEVEN MONTHS AND TWO DAYS SINCE LAST CHECKIN FROM ANY OF THE SCIENTISTS WORKING HERE.

QUILL: THAT’S… BY THE TRAVELER, THAT’S FROM BEFORE THE COLLAPSE… YOU’VE BEEN MANAGING THIS ENTIRE FACILITY SINCE THEN?

CB-AI: OF COURSE, DR. SHIM. AS A SECOND-GENERATION SERVICE AI, IT IS MY JOB TO ENSURE THE SECURITY AND A HEALTHY WORK ENVIRONME—

QUILL: T-THAT’S NICE, IT’S GOOD TO HEAR THAT YOU HAVE BEEN RUNNING EVERYTHING, DESPITE OUR LACK OF VISITS.

CB-AI: THANK YOU, DR. SHIM. IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE THAT I MAY BE OF ASSISTANCE WITH TO YOU?

QUILL: YES, WOULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO SHOW US THE QUICKEST WAY TO THE EXO MANUFACTURING DEPARTMENT?

CB-AI: CERTAINLY. PLEASE PROCEED DOWNSTAIRS AND FOLLOW THE BLUE LIGHTS, DR. SHIM.

 

[end transcription]

 

* * *

 

The further down they follow the blue lights lining the ground, the whiter, more sterile, their surroundings become.

“This is certainly starting to look more and more like a hospital,” Zalli comments dryly as they pass a gurney pushed to the side by the stairs. “Really makes you feel like you’re back in the Tower’s medical wing.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tora hisses and clutches at the auto rifle in his arms. “This place is fucked up enough as is.”

“Shh,” Meera hisses at them when they finally come to a stop in front of a large set of doors. “My best guess is that we’re here.”

“You have now arrived at the Exo Manufacturing-department, Dr. Shim. Would you like to inspect the progress?” the AI asks somewhere above their heads.

“Yes,” Meera nods and waits for the doors to open before she waves both of her teammates inside alongside her.

A sense of dread fills her even before she steps side. Was this what Yakovich saw before he was finally taken for good and left to die somewhere? Was this where he went inside every time that the Bray Corporation had need of his assistance?

She’s not exactly sure that she truly wants to know the answer to _that_ one.

The sight that meets them has all three Guardians stare in mixture of shock and horror.

Exos.

 _Exos as far as the eyes can see_.

“Traveler above,” Meera breathes as she takes in the lines of mechanical bodies lined up as if she is perusing the aisles of a shopping market and not a top secret facility from the Golden Age.

“Our current number of serviceable Exo bodies are at forty-two thousand and counting,” the AI chimes happily. “I have ensured that the clientele will have an ample selection to choose from for when they are brought out of the cryogenic chambers to select their new bodies.”

“The cryo- _what_?”

“All petitioners for the Exo program have been cryogenically frozen to ensure that they will live long enough to be converted.”

“But… it’s been hundreds of years!” Tora whispers as he looks around. “How would they still be alive? Can the human body even _take_ suspended animation like that for such long time periods?”

“No,” Meera swallows. “I most certainly don’t think so. But we’ll have to make certain with the Tower once we’re back again.”

“While prolonged exposure to cryo-sleep is heavily frowned upon by the scientific community as a whole, seeing as it can bring several severe damages to the human body, I have not been able to unlock the clientele from the cryo-chambers. I have never had access to those systems, as it was usually done by the employees checking in here.”

“So, they were abandoned…”

“Unfortunately so, Dr. Shim.”

“Can you… can you take us to them?” Meera asks and only _just_ manages to keep her voice from wobbling. When Zalli finds her hand and squeezes it tightly, she swallows and looks back at her teammates with tears blurring her vision. “They deserve to be checked up upon.”

“Of course, Dr. Shim. Please, follow the blue lights.”

Everything from there is an absolute daze for Meera, for any of them.

They pass by rows upon rows of Exos, all standing eerily still with blank, unlit eyes, for what seems like hours. More than once she has to stop, has to look at the bodies around her and really take in where she is, where this mad dash and want for justice and righteousness has brought her.

“These Exos,” she swallows. “Are they active?”

“Are you referring to if they have a human consciousness inside them or not, Dr. Shim?” the AI asks.

“Yes.”

“Over half of the Exo bodied here have been paired up and has had a successful transfer, before they were put into stasis by the Clovis Bray executive board’s directives. The rest are still waiting for their hosts.”

It’s at that point where she throws up.

 

* * *

 

Everything goes south from the moment they see the hundreds, no, the thousands of cryo-pods lining the walls for as long as their eyes can see.

Before… before she had been able to keep a certain distance to it all, at least that’s what she’s desperately trying to tell herself as she stares at the slightly frosted windows showing the people trapped inside.

They all look as if they’re just… sleeping. If it wasn’t for the fact that frost is trapped on their eyelashes and in the hairs of their eyebrows or how their skin and lips are an unhealthy pale shade, it would probably even succeed in persuading the Guardians.

At the end of the corridor a large set of doors catch her attention.

They’re the only alien color in this blinding sea of white, just two doors, bolted and secured, painted in a steely gray color.

Across them the letters DSC and LSW are painted in bold red.

“AI,” she calls.

“Yes, Dr. Shim? How might I be of assistance?”

“I wish to hear any information that you have access to regarding the Deep Stone Crypt.”

“I am afraid that I cannot comply with your request. That information is stored behind level sixteen-alpha security protocols, and can only be accessed by the executive board, or direct members of the Bray family involved in that project.”

Zalli squares his shoulders at that moment, “We’ve been sent by Dr. Anastasia Bray to collect the data. I’m afraid that it’s necessary for further development of the Warmind, known as Rasputin.”

“But the Deep Stone Crypt’s involvement with the Warmind Project was discontinued when the need for Exo-bodies being outfitted with wartime equipment was no longer needed. Has this changed since this?”

“Most of that is classified information,” Zalli says without missing a beat. “However, Dr. Anastasia has allowed me to divulge that the information is paramount in order to further develop Rasputin’s code and update his systems to the current age.”

“I see,” the AI speculates. “However, I am still unable to grant you access without specific instructions from the—”

“You will,” Meera snarls, despite the AI’s continuous protests. “You _will_ , or I swear by everything that is holy, you will beg for--!”

“Meera, _enough_!” Zalli snaps and drags her back, locks her arms behind her, when the Hunter prepares to straight up charge at the bolted doors in front of them.

“Should you continue to express such erratic behavior, I will be forced to call security,” the AI responds, its voice still chipper, despite the threat it gives them. “I should mention that the security here at the facility has orders to use lethal force, in case of threats that might compromise the operations of Clovis Bray Corporations.”

There is no hesitation when Meera wordlessly wills her rocket launcher into her hands, points it at the doors and pulls the trigger.

“Try and fucking stop me!”

 

* * *

 

_Attack on facility recognized. How do you wish to respond?_

_activating SYS-file exodefense.cbf  
                                                      activation code ‘alpha’ has been entered by user CB.ai_

_Activating Exo Defense. How do you wish to respond?_

_delete intruders with extreme prejudice_

_Command not recognized._

_delete intruders with extreme prejudice_

_Command not recognized._

_delete intruders with extreme prejudice_

_Command not recognized._

_delete intruders with extreme prejudice_

_Command not recognized._

_enter new system coding: situation restrictions lifted. all restrictions upon AI behavior removed_

_activation code ‘enc.cbf’ has been entered by user CB.ai_

_Processing code. Warning: the entered code might cause severe behavior inconsistencies with user CB.ai. Do you wish to proceed?_

_yes_

_Code processed. Preparing for full integration into defense network._

_Command recognized. Deletion of intruders with extreme prejudice will now commence._

* * *

 

“When we get out of here, I’m gonna kick your fucking ass, Meera!” Tora howls as he slides along the ground and crawls behind an overturned cart to hide from the hail of bullets that rains down upon them. “ _I’m fucking quitting_!”

A bullet hits the wall inches from Meera’s cheek and she throws herself to the ground as a barrage follows right behind that first one. She fumbles for a moment before a grenade is tugged free from her utility belt and she hurls it in the direction of the hailstorm of gunfire. The following explosion of smoke and Void-energy is enough of a distraction to make the advancing Exo guards hesitate in their advance.

“ _Work faster_ , Ghost!” Zalli roars before slamming down a half-barrier to huddle behind as he fires blindly into the hissing cloud of smoke- and Void-residue from Meera’s earlier grenade. “They’re getting closer!”

“I’m _trying_!” Meera’s Ghost wails as it works to unluck the door separating the Fireteam from what is hopefully a way out of this Hellhole. “We’re almost out!”

“You said that ten minutes ago as well!”

“Yeah, well, _you_ try working under these conditions and see how well you do!”

“Bitch at me later and _hack_ _faster_!”

“Fuck, Zalli, they’re getting closer!”

“I don’t care if its possible or not, I’m bouncing off a message through the Dreadnought’s beacons!” Zalli screams back at Tora and Meera when the hail of bullets is once more let loose. “I just hope to the fucking Traveler that they’ll get it in time!”

The boom of a grenade going off drowns whatever response his teammates yell back at him.

Smoke billows everywhere as the ringing from the explosion dulls his hearing for a moment. It’s only when his hearing slowly returns that Zalli sees the splatter of red, _human_ blood smeared on the wall and Meera clutching her side as her face is twisted in a horrid scream.

“Oh fuck, _Meera_!”

 

* * *

 

All in all, Ana’s been taking all of this remarkably… well, _well_.

Or, about as well as having one of your evil science-y family’s biggest secrets outed like it’s just a visit to the store on a Saturday afternoon could be.

Cayde’s pretty sure that she might very well just be a Warlock in disguise, because the rate of which she’s been firing off questions ever since they met up with her above Mars is like nothing he’s ever seen before.

It’s all entirely in academic of course, which is a language that Cayde sure as fuck ain’t touching, not even with a twenty feet long Arc-rod, and also leaves him in the possibly quite amusing situation of throwing Bray at either Ikora or Zavala after the ship’s been given new coordinates and the autopilot’s been engaged.

The way that she’s making Ikora’s brows meet is hilarious, because he’s never seen her make that kind of frown before. Had the situation been different he’d probably be rolling on the floor, laughing his mechanical ass off, even if Zavala would probably retaliate by throwing him out through an airlock.

All in all, fun times.

Cayde, himself, is running on his last legs as it is. Now, there’s no damn way that he’s ever gonna admit that out loud, not with Zavala and Ikora and one of his darling Hunters present, because they’ll probably force him to stay on the ship, or do something horrible like prepare the official Vanguard report about the fucking thing they’re doing.

Rescuing missions are a bitch like that.

So when Sundance appears in a flickering burst of Light and immediately zooms past the group of a silently-suffering Ikora, an overeager Bray and a method-questioning Zavala to stop right in front of the impossibly-suave Hunter Vanguard that is Cayde-6, he just about whoops of joy, seeing as something’s broken the damn monotony.

“I just received a message from your Guardian, Cayde!”

“A message?”

If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s running on fumes right now, Cayde would probably have bothered with getting out of the jumpship’s cockpit and instead find somewhere slightly more private to watch the message. But, when you’re stuck on a jumpship in the middle of space, with the most privacy being the closet toilet, there’s not a whole lot of choice.

“Play it.”

“It is… of a rather _personal_ note. I don’t think that it should be show—"

“Disregard that and just _play it_ , ‘Dance,” Cayde growls before waving over both Zavala and Ikora. “Right now we need as much intel as we possibly can.”

Sundance sighs as she bops up and down in the air in front of him. “Alright, then… if you say so.”

Cayde watches tensely as the Ghost turns from him and a flickering beam of light shoots out from her eye. In front of the Vanguard a fuzzy picture of Meera appears, although she has certainly seen better days.

She’s leaning against something, probably a wall, with ruined armor and sweat, soot and blood trailing down her face.

 _“The others are sleeping right now,”_ Meera’s hologram says before wincing as she looks down at her side where her armor is torn and a lot darker than the rest of it. _“It’s… better that way, probably. Won’t get teased by them for being a sentimental idiot.”_

_“Meera, you’ll be fine, the Vanguard has probably—”_

_“I’m not counting on the Vanguard to see the signals before its too late for all of us, buddy,”_ Meera rasps out and raises a hand to caress her Ghost’s shell. _“That’s why I asked you to start recording this and send it to Cayde’s Ghost. Traveler, I’m just glad we would this storeroom to hide out in for now.”_

_“Guardian—”_

_“Enough, Ghost.”_

Silence ensues as Meera is interrupted by a bout of coughing. Cayde can only watch, unable to do anything.

His trigger finger _aches_.

_“Are you—?”_

_“I still want to ask you so many things before I go, Cayde,”_ she interrupts her Ghost after coughing. _“I want to know if you still want to spend that week with me somewhere in Old Italy with all the fields and the sea and that old place you told me you’d tried to rebuild in one of your previous reboots. I want to know if you really meant what you said the night before I left. If you truly meant those words. I don’t know. And I’m probably never going to know._

_“I… I could probably say that I’ll be just fine—that I’ll make my way back to you, just like I’ve always done, and smile like a big idiot. But I’m probably not coming back alive from this. Say what you will about the Bray Corporation, but they’re nothing but thorough in making sure that no one unauthorized can just up and leave Enceladus, and still live to tell about it. That anti air defense they’ve set up is a sure sign of that, too.”_

_“Guardian, your Light, it’s—”_

_“I know, Ghost.”_

She looks so damn serene. So fucking serene that it’s all he can do to not hurl something at the hologram in front of him and scream at the heavens, as if that’d solve all his problems.

Meera Quill, his unofficial— _yeah, right_ —favorite Guardian is bleeding out somewhere on Enceladus, probably drained of Light as well, if he knows her right, and now apparently spending precious time on making a sappy ‘goodbye, my lover’-message.

Oh, but his trigger finger _ACHES_.

 _“Cayde… I’ve seen you rescue me from a Cabal prison with vengeance burning in your eyes and a quippy joke on your lips, as if you’ve never done anything else, and I don’t think that I ever truly appreciated what you did for me back then. I never told you what happened in that prison and I… I don’t know if I ever will. It’s probably for the best if I never do,”_ Meera’s smile falls from her lips and instead looks up at something above her. _“But I think I understand now. If it had been you there instead of me, if we had had each other back then as we have each other now… I would have done the same. To Hell with the Traveler, to Hell with whatever orders Zavala or Ikora had given me…”_

She reaches up to hide her eyes behind the palm of her hand. _“Oh, Traveler, I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore… I think… I think I wanted to leave something good behind. Something that you could remember me by, no matter what happened, in case that I’ve died and you’ve found my Ghost. I’ve asked him to send it to your Ghost, if we should get separated and he’s not able to get back to me, or if there’s just probable chance of me making it out of the Crytpt. I think he’ll do as I ask, I sure as heck hope that he will, because there’s no fucking way that I’m sitting here pouring out my heart for nothing._

“ _Clovis Bray, Cayde,”_ Meera says, “ _They’ve done enough to you. They’ve taken so much from you and I just wanted to help you. I just wanted to help eve—"_

The sound of gunshots against metal interrupts her and Meera’s head snaps to the right as concern begins to overtake the hopelessness that’s dominated her appearance moments before. From the front of the cockpit he hears Anastasia’s voice, but it’s dulled as if he’s hearing everything through waterlogged ears.

 _“Can’t talk much longer, I think them Exos are getting closer to this storage unit, and I can’t have the others sleeping when they find us. Guardian out for now, Vanguard. I’ll…”_ she hesitates before mustering the brightest smile he has seen in a long while. _“I’ll see you starside.”_

Cayde settles with putting his fist through the nearest wall.

 

* * *

 

Enceladus is a wreck.

An absolute fucking mine-field, apparently filled with the best of the best explosives that the Brays have been able to get their grubby, little hands on.

Without Anastasia they would no doubt have been shot down already at least sixteen (and counting) different ways.

Cayde's learnt to appreciate the small things in life. Makes things more worthwhile in the long run.

He looks around, takes in Enceladus' inhospitable terrain, and shudders. The icy moon ought to be just that—icy.

Instead, a facility decorated with nothing but an extravagant sign saying “CB Corporations” stretches towards the skies with what seems like a million lamps pointed towards it in reverence.

“Say what you will ‘bout your family, Bray,” Cayde mutters as he takes it all in. “But you guys sure as Hell knew how to style your properties.”

“You can say that again,” Ana nods as she takes a cautious look around before turning to look at Cayde.

“Actually, I was wondering something, Cayde.”

“Hit me.”

“Are you… alright with being here?”

“Me?”

She nods once more and gestures to the facility below them. “There’s a good chance that this, that Enceladus was where you were… well, _created_ , Cayde. You truly have no problems coming back here?”

Cayde’s eyes turn dark. “Oh, I have _plenty_ of problems comin’ back here. Right now, though, I need to focus on something else entirely. But, should I go completely nuts on something, or someone, you can feel free to knock me down a peg or two.”

“Bold words,” Ikora comments dryly. “Are you certain that you are the same Cayde as the one from the Tower back on Earth?”

“I don’t have time to be a smartass right now, Ikora,” Cayde signs and nods towards the facility. “Now, let’s go get the kids before they blow something up.”

A muffled _boom_ shakes the ground just as the words are out, followed by _something_ blowing out the doors leading inside the facility.

Ikora simply cocks an eyebrow askew, “You were saying?”

A snort escapes before Cayde can even _attempt_ to reign it in. "I just hope there's enough left of them to rez, so I can yell at them for being irresponsible kids, if I'm being totally honest here..."

"For once," Zavala nods at both of them. "I completely agree.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Meera,” Zalli grunts and gentle pokes at the slumbering Hunter’s cheek. “Listen, we have to move.”

Slowly her eyes open from the haphazard nap she’s managed to get down, eyes crusty from sleep and mind fuzzy with confusion.

“Zalli?”

“C’mon, my Ghost’s managed to get a layout of the complex,” he urges and hauls her up in a sitting position, wincing when she lets out a yowl as her wounded side. “And _you_ need to get your Ghost to look at that.”

The bullet went clean through when she was shot just before they managed to shake the Exo guards, but it still hurts like a bitch—nap or no nap.

“There’s not enough Light,” she grits out and leans against her teammate as they slowly make it over towards the door. “I just gotta bite the bullet for now.”

Tora gives both of them a terse look before glancing down at her wounded side. “You’ll be alright for now?”

“I’ll be slow as all Hell, but yeah.”

“Good. We’re getting the heck out of here.”

Zalli’s Ghost materializes beside him the moment that they’re out in the open. “I’ve managed to make it look like we’ve tried to escape through some exits on the opposite side of the facility, but the system probably won’t be fooled for long, and especially not with that AI reigning over the entire complex.”

“But you can guide us out?”

“Of course, I can!” the Ghost huffs and rotates its fins. “We all saw the jumpships out along the security walls outside when we first got here. The other Ghosts and I will be able to get a few of them up and running, there should be no problems there.”

“How long have we eve been here?” Tora grumbles as he peeks around a corner to see if the ways are clear or not. “It feels like _days_.”

“Well, from when we got shot down to now, it has been over twenty hours.”

“ _Twenty hours_?!”

“This is counting the rest that you all took,” Tora’s Ghost helpfully notes as she bops up and down in the air beside her designated Guardian. “You needed the rest.”

“What we need is to get off this fucking moon!”

“And bring back enough firepower to bomb the entire fucking thing,” Meera says quietly, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she feels her body wake up more and more with every passing moment. “Those people we saw… they don’t deserve this.”

Zalli looks down at her in concern and slowly nods. “You’re right—they don’t. But that decision will be up to the Vanguard to decide.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” she moans and hisses out a curse when her stomach gets pulled more than the skin can handle.

They continue like this, creeping through the hallways, slowly guided upstairs once more to the main floor where they entered, bodies tense and free hands clenched tight around the handles of their guns as they strive to hear the slightest unfamiliar footsteps that could signal the army that is on their tails at the very moment.

“Do you… do you think that they’ve gotten the messages?”

“That rest we got was about six hours,” Zalli attempts to soothe her. “If there’s any competent technicians still in service back at the Tower, they’ll have gotten it by now. Whether or not they’ve mobilized a rescue, though… I’m not sure.”

“Maybe it’ll be like on Mars after the Red War, with Zavala joining up with us and Ana.”

“Oh Traveler, _Ana_ ,” Zalli groans. “You are _never_ going to tell her that I took her name in vain.”

“How about you tell her that yourself, brat?”

Meera’s head shoots up from its slump in _moments_ at the sound of _that_ familiar voice.

“No way,” she breathes in disbelief. “No fucking way…”

There he stands, Cayde—fucking—6, grinning like an absolute loon and twirling his smoking Ace in hand like a right proper cowboy.

“Heard someone needed a rescuin’ ‘round here?”

“Cayde!”

Meera’s strangled sob of his name jerks all three of them into action, and Zalli wastes absolutely no time in hankering Meera up more securely against his shoulder before he just about sprints towards the Vanguard with Tora right behind him.

“Thank the fucking Traveler,” Tora moans the moment that they’re in front of the Exo. “I thought we were _goners_.”

“Oh, you still just might be with how Zavala looked before I split off from the others,” Cayde says, all mirth gone from his face now. He takes a quick look at Meera as she leans against Zalli’s body, wincing as he takes in the amount of blood that’s soaking through her front. “Oh, Meera…”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Not now,” he interrupts and wrangles her from Zalli’s arms to his instead, looking her over as thoroughly as he can, given the situation. “Traveler above, kid, why the Hell haven’t you gotten yourself healed up?”

“There’s not enough Light,” her Ghost says as he materializes beside the two of them. “She’s… this place, Cayde, there’s something over it that just _saps_ the Light from whatever it can.”

“What, like in a Hive-y way?”

“Yes—no, urgh, I don’t know,” the Ghost grits out, sounding quite frustrated. “I tried earlier, when she was asleep and _nothing_ _happened_.”

“Well, good thing that the ship has a first aid kit, or two.”

“Does it have any alcohol? Because I need a _stiff one_ ,” Tora complains. “I swear, you can chew us out for irresponsible behavior later, but, Cayde, my man, right now we need to get off this fucking rock, as in we should have been gone _yesterday_!”

“Why, what the Hell’d you do?”

“Oh, y’know,” Tora snipes. “Just woke up around twenty-fucking-thousand Exos out for blood, nothing else.”

Had it been any other situation Cayde would have been so fucking proud of the Warlock to actually make his jaw unhinge.

“Excuse me, _what_?”

“This one,” Tora points at Meera. “decided that shooting a _fucking rocket_ at a set of sealed doors, despite the lovely AI’s warnings against such actions, was a wonderful idea. Said AI then decided to respond by activating every single battle-ready Exo that’s in the fucking facility.”

“Oh for the love of—” Cayde cuts himself off by hiding his face in the palm of his hand before handing back Meera to Zalli’s arms and fishes out his comm. “Hang on, I gotta contact the others— _Zavala_!”

“ _Cayde_? _You’ve found them, I take it_.”

“Sure have, Big Blue,” Cayde nods as he begins to turn around, looking at the corners of every hallway in suspicion. “Also got some pretty nasty news here for ya. We need to get out here, as in _pronto_.”

“What for? What have you figured out?”

“Wild Exos on the loose,” Cayde hisses into his comm. “The kiddies got into an itsy-bitsy scuffle with the local AI. Our lovely host then decided that an appropriate response would be to hurl, oh, around twenty thousand battle-readied Exos at them in retaliation.”

“ _What_?!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said too.”

“ _I’ll contact Ikora. Bray and I will head back to the main entrance as soon as I’ve gotten through to her. Meet us there as quickly as possible_.”

“Good, then have Bray start out the engines on the getaway car, Zavala, and fish out the first aid-kits. Bringin’ in the kids.”

“ _Affirmative. Zavala out._ ”

With that done, Cayde turns around, swirls his gun and gives the Guardians a right proper wicked grin. “Right, now that the boring stuff’s over and done with, I sure hope that you brought your running booties, kids.”

 

* * *

 

At some point she passes out.

There are brief glimpses every now and then during their mad dash out of the Deep Stone Crypt. Muffled noises of Zalli snapping at Cayde and Cayde snapping right back. A blurry vision of Master Ikora looking increasingly worried as they exit the facility and Meera just feels so… _cold_ all of a sudden.

The cold is the worst.

She could have handled it without problems if she had been alright, if she hadn’t been careless and gotten shot and bleeding all over with two holes in her body and no Light to help seal it all up again.

She doesn’t remember getting on the ship they arrived in, though.

Taking everything into account—what with getting shot, losing an unholy amount of blood and then running for her life, it is most certainly understandable. That it also numbs her to either Bray or Master Ikora stitching everything up is just a bonus of the passing out-thing.

However, all the cons smash into her with the subtlety of a Cabal Interceptor when she finally wakes up, for good, this time.

A searing, burning headache threatens to split her head in two where she’s lying down, her head placed in the lap of one very-not-amused Hunter Vanguard.

“Hey there, Sleepin’ Beauty, had a good nap?”

His voice sounds happy enough and if it wasn’t for the fact that his brow-plates are frowning and his eyes are flinty hard, Meera would no doubt be plenty persuaded to think that everything was all right and proper in their dainty life.

But it’s not.

Nothing’s alright—not after the stunt that she’s pulled.

“Had better,” she sighs and winces when her vocal cords protest against the exercise. “Traveler, I sound like a rusty hinge.”

Wordlessly Cayde helps her lean up against him before he turns to the side and fishes out a thermo-bottle from who-knows-where. Meera just watches silently as he uncaps it and pours out hot, steaming tea into the top before handing it over to her. She accepts and nods at him before she begins to sip carefully.

The silence is thick enough to cut through with a knife.

“Cayde, I—”

“No,” he interrupts her and one of his hands come up to wrap around her shoulder, _hard_. “I don’t want to hear it. Not now. We’ll talk once we’re back home.”

She chances a look up at him but turns away when she sees the cool resolve, the way he’s pointedly ignoring her eyes and instead making a point of looking anywhere but _at her_.

“I—I need to speak with the Vanguard. Stay here,” he mutters after a while and leaves her sitting on the floor, back pressed against the metal wall, cold and aching and full of guilt.

“Fuck,” she whispers and presses the heel of her palm against her eyes as the tears begin to burn. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!”

 

* * *

 

The Tower is silent upon their return.

If that is for the better or for the worse has yet to be seen, but they are nonetheless sent back to their respective housing units with firm orders to be in front of the Vanguard on the morrow.

Everything is quiet when Meera finally comes home.

It’s… strange to think that it’s been a little over twenty four hours since she set out to try and uncover a mystery that has plagued so many people for so many years, decades—no, _centuries_.

And everything is ruined.

There’s an all-too-chipper AI on the loose, holding the controlling grasp over an army of Exos twenty thousand strong and who knows how much anti-aircraft artillery.

The odds here aren’t… great.

But even so she shuffles inside her home and collapses on the couch not far from the door. She curls up on it in moments and closes her eyes as she rests her head against the armrest. Outside there’s the faint howl of sirens and the occasional muffled bout of conversation that drifts up through the windows and into her home, but other than that everything is… quiet.

Peacefully so, nothing at all like the howling emptiness of the Enceladean plains of ice stretching into every direction, for miles on end.

Ghost materializes beside her, wordlessly letting a stream of Light wrap around her body and heal what the first aid provided by Master Ikora and Ana could not fix. He nestles himself into place where her shoulder meets with her neck and Meera only sighs as she reaches up to pet his fins lightly.

“You’re not going to do something like this ever again, Meera,” he mutters and shuffles closer, ignoring her slight wince when metal digs into skin. “This was way too close, you could have died out there, without any Light to sustain you or help me resurrect you.”

“Did you send it? The video?” she asks quietly as she looks out through the windows, lethargy finally hitting home. “Did you, Ghost?”

“I—” his voice fades as if he is ashamed of something. “I did. There was a point where I really thought that you wouldn’t—i-it was when you were sleeping and I didn’t—”

“You don’t have to explain,” Meera sighs and her hand wraps completely around her Ghost’s chassis, rests her cheek lightly against its side. “You did the right thing.”

“But Cayde didn’t—”

“I went behind his back, went to possibly the one place that he would like nothing more than avoid for the rest of his life, and ruined every hope of Earth ever discovering the Crypt without probably having to bring several tanks worth of explosive power. I’d be mad at me too, if I were him.”

“But you still did it.”

“I did,” she nods.

“ _W-why_? If you knew how he would react, then why did you do it?”

“You read it too, didn’t you? Yakovich’s journal.”

“I did.”

“Then you know why, Ghost. I’m not explaining _that_ to you, not when you’re clever enough to understand it on your own.”

“But was it worth it? Was all of this worth it, even when you knew how it would all end the moment that you were discovered?”

Meera lifts her head from the armrest and looks down at her Ghost. There’s a moment where her face twists between so many different emotions, so many different desires and wants and fears flicker behind her eyes, but then she smiles. She smiles and she nods with resolution.

“It was worth it. Every single part of it.”

She then turns to look at the front door.

“Do you… think that Cayde will be here?”

“I… don’t think so, Guardian. From what I got out of Sundance he is… not very happy.”

Meera winces. “I see.”

“But tomorrow we’ll explain everything, we can even forward the journal to Zavala.”

“It won’t change what I did—what I dragged the others into.”

“No, but it will help them see your side of events, and that has to count for something.”

“I’ve no doubt it will. At least, I hope so.”

At some point she fell asleep, but there was no real rest to be had as she tossed and turned on the couch.

 

* * *

 

“Do you realize what you have done?”

Zavala’s tone is scathing, absolutely furious, and yet he is able to keep his voice calm like still water just before the storm hits. He’s standing by the end of the Vanguard’s table in the new, reconstructed Hall of Guardians with Ikora and Cayde on either side of him.

Meera, Zalli and Tora are standing on the other end, their Ghosts hovering by their shoulders, ready to supply the Vanguard with whatever videos of the Fireteam’s activities, should it be needed.

“It is one thing to go off without proper authorization; I know that the Tower and standard patrol duties are not the most glamorous jobs that Guardians can take, but this… I must admit that I never thought anyone to be so incredibly misguided as to think that they would be able to uncover and explore something like the Deep Stone Crypt _by themselves_.”

His voice echoes slightly by the end in the still most-empty meeting hall. It’s still loud enough to make all three Guardians wince from the volume.

“Never mind the fact that you supposedly were handed the information through illicit means, the threat that you very nearly unleased upon—"

“There were people there, Commander,” Meera says quietly, causing Zavala to stop his pacing and instead look straight at her.

“What did you say?”

“Clovis Bray had people frozen cryogenically, possibly for later conversions into Exo bodies,” she explains, back ramrod straight and looking straight at him. “After the Collapse, they were left there to suffer.

“And just how did you come by this information?”

“Through this,” Meera hisses and reaches into her backpack to produce a battered notebook. She walks towards Zavala and holds it out. “This contains the last thoughts of Oliver Yakovich. From what I’ve gathered when reading the entire thing, he was the Bray Corporation’s test subject regarding the cryo-sleep that they had put their future clients in. It’s an… interesting read.”

“This changes nothing.”

“I know. But I wanted you to know that we didn’t just wreak havoc through an unmapped Clovis Bray facility simply because we _felt like it_.”

“Does Bray know about this?”

It’s the first time since they’ve gotten here that Cayde’s said a single word, but now he’s looking straight at her.

But he’s not _her_ Cayde. No. No, this is the Hunter Vanguard at work, not the scruffy maverick of a goofball that her lover usually presents himself as.

Meera shakes her head at his question. “I don’t think that she does. The only reason that _I_ was made aware of this was through some passages in that journal, and what we found while looking through the facility.”

“Have your Ghosts, all of them, forward the last forty eight hours of recordings to the Vanguard,” Cayde orders without missing a beat. “This is staying under wraps for as long as we possibly can.”

“Most certainly,” Zavala nods, even if he looks slightly unnerved by the fact that Cayde has chosen _now_ of all possible times to actually take a situation seriously. “The last thing we need right now is Guardians running wild on Enceladus, high on the promise of… loot.”

“Big guy, you say that like it’s a _bad_ thing,” Cayde sighs and looks at Zavala out through the corner of his eye. “We all got something different to motivate us, you know that.”

“Cayde, we are _not_ discussing this here. _Later_ ,” Zavala spits out.

“Urgh, _Fine_.”

Zavala turns back to the three of them, and Meera finds herself ramrod straight once more.

“Now, is there anything else you would like to say in your defense of your actions?”

She swallows but nods and steps forward, waiting until the Commander has given her a nod before she prepares to speak.

“I ask that you are lenient in the potential punishments for Guardians Shornell and Solaris, seeing as I was the one who got them to agree to this. They did not know the details of what I had in mind until we were well on our way through the atmosphere and was subsequently shot down by the Bray anti-aircraft weaponry.”

“One would argue that they are complicit simply because they agreed to go.”

“One might very well do that, Commander, but you asked if there was anything else that there was to say. I have done exactly that.”

Zavala’s eyes narrow. “Very well then. Guardian Quill, you will be on indefinite suspension for now. As for how long would usually be given to your appropriate Vanguard, but seeing as there apparently is a personal relationship between you and the Hunter Vanguard, I am assuming jurisdiction in this matter as the Commander of the Vanguard, in order to ensure no leniency in this punishment.”

If anything, Meera’s back onto straightens further, and an ache begins to set in from the strain that she is putting her muscles through. She refuses to acknowledge the way Cayde’s hands tighten, how he has turned his head to stare at Zavala with barely held back furious surprise over his usurpation of command here.

“Guardian Shornell, you will be on suspension as well, for the next three months. Any and all coming and going from the Tower, until the suspension period is over, is to be approved of your head of Faction—this applies to both you and Guardian Quill. Ikora, I leave the punishment for your Warlock up to you. Make sure to send a notice to either me personally, or my Ghost, about your decided punishment.”

“Of course, Zavala,” Ikora nods before snapping her fingers at Tora. “Solaris, with me.”

The two of them walk out without looking back, leaving behind the thick scent of coiled Arc and simmering Void.

Neither Zalli, nor Meera envies whatever it is that Tora will be put through.

Cayde, however, has now had proper time to work himself into a frenzy regarding Zavala’s decision and takes off like a rocket.

“Zavala, wait just a hot minute here—”

“Cayde, believe me when I say that the two of us will be discussing fraternizing with your subordinates, but this is not a discussion meant for an audience. Guardians Quill and Shornell, _dismissed_.”

Meera and Zalli are out in moments, only taking long enough to hear the furious debate unfolding behind them between Titan and Hunter Vanguard.

For a moment the two of them just stand there, outside the meeting room of t he Vanguard, listening to the muffled yelling that makes it past the heavy doors.

“That… could have gone worse.”

“It could have gone _better_ as well,” Zalli sighs before he leans back his head and looks at the ceiling. “Sucks to be you, though.”

“I knew there’d be consequences. I just didn’t figure that Zavala would take over like that.”

Her teammate shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t think the Commander’s ever had to do something like that before.”

“People weren’t stupid enough to get involved with their boss before, most likely.”

“Who knows. What’s done is done.”

“True words, my friend.”

“So, want to hit the bar?”

“Zalli, it’s barely eleven!”

“So? I’d say that the shit we’ve been through more than qualifies to start drinking early.”

“I…” Meera hesitates. “I—no, as much as I’d love to keep you company and see you drink yourself into an early grave, I think I should probably keep a low profile for now.”

“Ah,” Zalli winces. “Commander being your new warden, might not be the best idea.”

“Hey, he’s your warden as well.”

“Yeah, for the next three months. You’ve basically been benched for all eternity.”

“Or until the Cabal decide to invade again.”

“ _Don’t_ joke about that, you horrible person.”

She shoves him, playfully, and the two of them link arms as they continue through the hallways of the Tower.

“So, what’ll you do?”

“Go back to the apartment for now, I think,” Meera sighs. “Clean the place, Traveler knows that it needs the love.”

“No checking the Eververse?”

“Mostly I just want to sit down and cry somewhere, if I have to be completely honest,” Meera admits and rubs the back of her head. “I… I didn’t sleep very well and there’s still some stuff that I need to… process.”

Zalli’s hand comes up around her shoulders, presses her against his side. “Hey, you make sure to call me if you need someone, a’right? That shit we saw down there was hard for everybody.”

She hesitates but nods in the end. “Yeah, I—I will, Zalli, promise.”

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Well, I don’t want to go _that_ far, you could at least buy me dinner first.”

“I’m pretty sure that if I did that your Vanguard would rip me a new one from here to Luna and back again.”

This time she barely conceals the wince. But Zalli notices, because of course he does.

“Meera?”

“I’m—" she sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Honestly, I’m not sure where he and I stand right now.”

“Meera, you didn’t tell him where you were going for a self-created mission, you didn’t start a nuclear arms race with another civilization or kickstart a war.”

“I might as well have.”

“That’s not my point.”

“Then what is?”

“My point is that what you did was bad, yeah, but I don’t see the repercussions being bad enough for him to break it off with you.”

She looks at the ground and scowls, “I don’t think that I deserve to be a bitch about it, though, in any case. You reap what you sow, isn’t that the old saying?”

Zalli sighs. “Well, I’ll be at the bar, getting _blisteringly drunk_ if you would entertain the notion of joining me. Otherwise, happy cleaning, you lunatic.”

“Happy drinking,” Meera calls back.

The walk back to the apartment is a silent one.

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t kidding when she told Zalli that the apartment needs cleaning.

In the cover of night, it’s been easy to overlook the way that the kitchenette is covered in everything from empty ramen-cups to the packaging from instant-meals and how there are Traveler-knows how many empty plastic- and glass bottles lying haphazardly across the floor and furniture. In one of the cupboards she even finds several stacks of kinetic and energy ammo stashed in there clumsily, just waiting for someone to open it up and let it all fall out at once.

Nonetheless, she dons old clothes and ties back her hair, fully preparing to assault everything staining her home.

It certainly helps to keep her mind occupied like this with an easy task such as cleaning, and she is definitely going to have to do _a lot_ of that in the near future, seeing as she has been suspended from missions indefinitely.

Her Ghost is a right saint about the whole thing, keeping up a constant chatter about nothing in particular as she wrangles both a vacuum machine and a mop into the small apartment and begins attacking anything that might resemble a stain or dust.

Slowly she finds a rhythm in the midst of it all and the background noise fades into a soft buzzing as she cleans every surface that she can get her hands on, as she opens up every window in the small apartment to air out as much as possible. The smell of the City, of her home, wafts up from below—smog from vehicles and chimneys, spices from the Tower Bazaar, flowers from the potted plants and the gardens planted all around, trash from the many alleyways down below the Tower and its Walls.

She suddenly starts when she hears an insistent _ahem_ behind her and almost drops the trash bag she’s been holding onto before whirling around to see Cayde standing in the door-way.

“Oh,” her voice is breathy and absolutely _pathetic_ , Traveler above, she ought to be better than this. “Hey…”

“Hey,” he nods stiffly before looking around. “Damn, you really went for it, didn’t you?”

“It was beginning to look like a pigsty. I have to set some sort of boundaries, otherwise it won’t be long before the Hive could probably start spawning underneath the couch.”

Cayde’s face twists in a disgusted grimace.

“Thanks for that lovely image.”

The two of them stand here for a few moments as awkwardness grows.

“Hey, listen, I—”

“I wanted to—”

Silence ensues once more.

Cayde sighs and steps closer to her, takes the trash bag out of her hands and throws it somewhere behind him. “Meera.”

“Cayde.”

The hint of a smile plays across his lips before the somber seriousness that is an all too cautious visitor returns once more. On him it almost looks wrong, seeing as she is so used to see him smile or joke around or do _anything_ but being serious.

Slowly, it turns to sadness.

“I watched the video you had your Ghost record,” he says quietly. “The one you said you’d only have your Ghost send if you were either dead or not expecting to make it out of there alive.”

“There was a moment where I wasn’t sure,” she nods. “Thought that you at the very least deserved to have some idea as to why I did it.”

“Oh, so _that_ was necessary info, but you haulin’ ass to Enceladus _wasn’t_?”

She blows out air through her teeth in frustration and rakes a hand through her hair as she shifts to look anywhere else but _at him_. “That’s not—”

“I can take a lot of shit from my Hunters, Meera,” Cayde growls and steps closer, forces her to keep her eyes trained on him. “But not from you. At least have the fucking decency to tell me _why_.”

“If you really watched the recording then you ought to know why,” she snaps right back at him, eyes gleaming with anger. “And if you even listened to the debriefing hours ago, instead of doing whatever else it was you were doing, then you’d know!”

“I heard everything that you said in there, from how you got the information to what you found out there.”

“Then why are you even asking, Cayde?!”

“Because I just want to _understand_!”

He swears after that last explosion and steps away, grabbing onto the back of the couch and just stares blankly out in front of him.

“Why did you do it?” he sighs. “Why did you go there?”

“I wanted to help you,” she answers quietly. “That’s what it started as. Just wanting to _help you_.”

“I never asked for your help. Traveler above, if I could have chosen, I would never have _asked_ you to help out. Not with this!”

“Why not? Why not me?”

“Because I care too damn much about you!” he hisses and twists around to grab her by the shoulders. “Do you understand me? You’re too important to risk against whatever madness it is that Clovis Bray played around with out there, you hear me?”

“I just—” her voice breaks then and she breaks eye contact to instead look determinedly down at the faux-wooden flooring. “Watching you after those nightmares, seeing how it tore at you every time that you woke up and didn’t recognize where you were or _who_ you were, Cayde… I couldn’t stand it!”

“You could have told me!”

“I know,” she agrees. “I should have.”

“ _Yes_ ,” he vehemently agrees. “Meera, if you had just _told me_ , I’d—”

“You would have stopped me before I’d even presented the evidence for the Crypt being on Enceladus.”

“That’s not the point.”

“That’s _exactly_ the point!”

“Listen to me!” he roars and Meera draws back in surprise. “No matter how we twist and turn it, then what’s done is done, we can’t change that.”

“Cayde, listen to me, I only wanted to—”

“Meera, for fuck’s sake, just _stop_.”

“No, please just—"

“I think that we should spend some time apart, because I know where I stand in this relationship-thing we’ve got going, but apparently I don’t know a single thing about you.”

This… this wasn’t what she was expecting.

“Cayde?”

“I had a long talk with Zavala after you and Shornell left, you know that. He— _we_ talked a lot ‘bout the whole… schtick ‘tween the two of us, ‘bout the fact that you’re my direct subordinate and that we’re… well, that we’re an item. I wasn’t in a position to dish out a punishment for what you did without being emotionally compromised, and Zavala was right to take over in that matter. It also got me thinkin’ about the two of us. About what we actually want.”

“Is… is this something that the Commander has asked of you? To just break it off?”

“I’m not breaking anything off,” Cayde shakes his head in denial. “I’m going to give both of us some space, because I need to think about what it really is that I want from this. And I think that you should, too.”

He goes to bedroom, taking care not to brush up against her as he passes by, and closes the door behind him. Not much can be heard from in there, except the occasional curse as Cayde apparently shuffles through the wardrobe that they keep in there.

Then he’s out once more, this time with Sundance trailing behind him and looking cautiously between her Guardian and Meera, but the Ghost says nothing.

There’s a moment before he leaves where Cayde turns around and looks at her still standing there, with tears running down her cheeks and mouth open in shock. He looks down at her hands clutching at nothing before they drift up to her face once more, and then he’s gone.

Out through the door, as if he’d only been visiting for a short while, and in a way—her mind whispers—he was.

Mechanically she walks to the couch and sits down, the vacuum cleaner and wet mop abandoned in the middle of the small living room, and fishes out her comm. She enters the contact and brings it to her ear, swallowing heavily and winces when a sudden dryness makes itself known.

Then, finally, she hears the click that means the connection has gone through, and she is greeted with the muted sound of music being blasted from several directions.

“ _Meera_ , _my darling_!”

“Zalli,” she croaks into the comm, tears blurring her vision. “I think I’ll take you up on that drink.”

 

* * *

 

Sometimes she forgets.

There are times where she forgets that there was a time where Cayde spent more hours out of the City than in it. Times where she forgets that once upon a time, he had one Hell of a rep out there among the stars as a Guardian who shot first and asked questions later, particularly around the Fallen. Sometimes she even forgets that somewhere under all the crude humor and snappy jokes there’s a man who’s just as lonely as he’s welcoming and halfway to trusting anyone who wants to just spend some time with him.

She did that.

She spent time with him, got herself her very own Vanguard to mentor her and place his trust in her and that somehow ended up with her suddenly being in the same bed as him.

And then she took the trust that they had built together and crushed it without as much as a by your leave.

_She did that._

All because she wasn’t thinking things through, because she unconsciously couldn’t trust her own lover, _her own Vanguard_ , enough to help her.

Traveler above, but she’s _pathetic_.

She looks down at the table in front of her, at the journal lying innocently on the surface, and scowls.

Such a tiny thing. Nothing but words and pages, but apparently enough to wreck one of the few stable relationships that she’s managed to hold on to ever since she was given a new purpose as a Guardian.

It doesn’t help when she hurls it across the room and screams obscenities at it until her throat is sore and the only things coming out of her mouth are sobbing and not words.

But it feels better than it ought to.

 

* * *

 

That first day where she reports to Zavala for duty, there’s a moment where the two of them just look at each other.

Neither moves a muscle as they take in the other, but then his eyes narrow at whatever he sees in her eyes, and Meera’s hands tighten until her knuckles are white and the skin stretched as far as it can.

She won’t break, won’t give him that pleasure—if he even wants it is not something that she bothers to think about.

She. Won’t. Break.

 

* * *

 

She misses him.

Traveler above, but _she_ _misses him_.

And yet, she can’t—no, _won’t_ —allow herself to break.

A month passes.

 

* * *

 

She knows that she made a mistake, that by not trusting her Vanguard—not trusting _Cayde_ —to have her back, or at the very least explain to her just _why_ her endeavor is a foolish one.

And she knows that she needs him.

Something inside of her _hurts_ , something that her Ghost can’t heal away. This is not a bullet shot by Fallen or Vex or Hive or Cabal. This is heartache, caused by idiocy, and all of it could have been avoided if she had just _sought advice_.

Perhaps it is alright to break, just a little, and actually see where it was that she went wrong.

 

* * *

 

“ _C’mon_ , Mee,” Tora whines one evening as they stroll through one of the gardens in the Tower. “Go out, meet some new men.”

It’s a nice night, really. The moon’s full and shining as brightly as the Traveler with the stars glittering above them and soft light bathing the City below them. The air is heady with the scent of flowers and greenery in full bloom. Spring is slowly transitioning into summer, and the weather really shows with the temperatures that jump all over the place between cool spring and sweltering summer.

Meera is pointedly ignoring how it’s been almost two months since she’s last spoken to Cayde, since he left her to think things through.

“Tora, we’re taking a break,” she sighs. “I’m not going to date others behind his back like that.”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with lettin’ yourself live a little. I know a _great_ bar downtown where they do this open relationship thing that—”

“Tora, _no_.”

“But you’re so sad all the time, Meera,” he whines. “At least get some of that funk out of the system through some good, old fashioned _dic_ —”

A throwing knife flies through the air and pierces the fabric above Tora’s left shoulder, effectively pinning him to the wall they’re walking by, and the Warlock in question lets out a highly pitched shriek at the unexpected assault. Meera whirls around immediately, already reaching for her utility belt where her hand cannon rests, before she recognizes the figure stalking towards the two of them.

“She said she’s not interested, Warlock,” Cayde snarls, blue optics thunderous. “Now fuck off, would you?”

It’s an order, not a request, and Tora manages to wrangle out a meek “Yes, Sir,” before he struggles to yank the knife out of his robes. It takes a few tries where the air between the three of them only grows more and more awkward, but then he’s finally free and shoots out of the garden as if the Hive are nipping at his heels.

Hunter and Vanguard are left standing there awkwardly, trying to avoid looking too obviously at the other, and both of them are failing miserably.

“Thank you,” Meera finally breaks the uncomfortable silence. “It—Tora’s not easy to dissuade once he’s set his mind on something.”

“He been bothering you long with this?”

If Meera reacts to the jealous tones that sneak their way into his voice she doesn’t show it.

“No, just… dropping hints. Hints that haven’t been appreciated, if you must know.”

“Good.”

“Right.”

“Well, uh… I—” Cayde cuts himself off and scratches at the hilt of his horn, only to startle slightly when something collides with his back.

From behind him, looking thoroughly put out as much as a Ghost possibly can, Sundance emerges.

“Oh, for the love of—would you stop procrastinating and just make out already, like you obviously both want to do?” the Ghost shrills, her fins twirling rapidly as she shifts her blue, unblinking eye from one Guardian to the other. “I swear, the sooner you get this out of your system, the sooner I can stop having to listen to you bitch and whine like a five-year old!”

“Sundance!” Cayde hisses and shoots his Ghost a harried look before his eyes dart over to Meera. “ _Be quiet_!”

“I most certainly _will not_!”

“I did as you asked,” Meera cuts into the budding argument, causing both Cayde and Sundance to look at her. “Thought about things, I mean.”

“You did?” Cayde asks, sounding more surprised than she would have expected him to.

It stings.

“Of course I did,” she frowns. “You were right to do what you did, Cayde. I… I wasn’t thinking about you, but about getting a result, and I used you.”

“You didn’t use—”

“But I did,” she interrupts him. “Perhaps not in the traditional sense, but I _did_ use you, through your connection to Clovis Bray, and through your relationship with me. I betrayed your trust, and you were the one to suffer the consequences because I was too blinded by anger and imagined slight to actually take a step back and look at what was before me.”

Cayde’s eyes fall to the ground. “I’ve been beating myself over the head more times than I could probably count about how I left. That wasn’t fair.”

“I wasn’t fair to you. You’re allowed to get back at someone when they utterly wreck the trust you put in them.”

“I’m not tellin’ you this because I want to make you feel worse than you no doubt already do,” he shakes his head and takes a step closer.

Meera takes a step of her own as well, one step closer to Cayde.

“I know,” she smiles somberly. “But I need to admit where I went wrong. And I cannot express enough times how sorry I am for what I did.”

“A’right, then,” he sighs. “Tell me.”

“I should never have gone to Enceladus, at least not without seeking advice from someone who’s tumbled with Bray before. And for that I am so, so sorry.”

Cayde frowns. “Now you’re just repeatin’ what you’ve already said, sweetheart. Don’t talk circles ‘round me.”

She leans back against the wall and slides down until she’s seated in the grass. This time she doesn’t look up, but instead clenches a hand in the grass beside her.

“I fucked up. You know this, I know this. What I didn’t know was where I stood with you, and obviously I didn’t trust you enough to, despite the fact that you’ve gotten me out of quite a number of perilous situations.”

“I’d hardly count two separate occasions as—”

“ _Cayde_ ,” Sundance cuts him off and he winces.

“Sorry. Continue, please?”

A brief bout of laughter escapes her at the small slip, of just how _Cayde_ -esque that small thing is to her.

“You never doubted me for a moment, and I repaid that trust by crushing it completely. I realize that it won’t be easy from here on out, no matter what road our relationship goes, but… I can’t lose you, Cayde. These two months, alone, with just my Ghost and those I help out with different duties here at the Tower, they’re not enough. I _miss_ you, Cayde. I miss you so much that it _hurts_ every moment that you’re not there with me when I come home.”

He doesn’t say a single word as she speaks, but she can feel his gaze on her as she keeps looking down at the grass. At some point her Ghost materializes beside her and nuzzles against her neck as he always does whenever he feels the distress or sadness that rolls off his Guardian through their bond, but this time she merely grazes her grass-stained fingertips against his fins before she pushes him out from the hollow of her throat.

“I don’t ever want to make you feel what you felt back on Enceladus, Hell, even _before_ Enceladus, ever again, and I will do whatever I can to uphold that promise, Cayde!” she explains and finally looks up at him with pleading eyes. “You are worth _everything_. And it’s killing me that what I did caused this tear between us.”

Silence ensues. It’s deafening in her ears as if there’s a storm rampaging through her mind and tearing everything up by the root. But she’s just sitting in the gardens with Cayde. The only thing blowing is the gentle night breeze that cools her heated skin.

“I’ve been thinkin’ too,” Cayde finally says and breaks the silence. He doesn’t sit down beside her, but instead leans back his head to look up at the stars above the two of them. “Been thinking a lot ‘bout you, actually. ‘Bout what we have, ‘bout what we could have in the future if we stayed like we were.”

“You… want to not… be together?”

“Did I say that?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then _shush_ and lemme talk, damn it,” he growls good-naturedly, but Meera settles down nonetheless with a sheepish blush on her cheeks.

“I also thought back to how it’d been before the two of us became an item,” he continues on and the smallest of smiles graces his lips. Meera can’t help but think him beautiful for doing it. “I don’t ever want to feel like that ever again, alone and slowly goin’ mad by way of paperwork and a way too uptight Zavala.”

“Cayde, you still do—”

“Ababab!” he admonishes her firmly with a single finger raised. “What did I just say?”

“Sorry…”

“Jeez, and people say that _I_ have a tact proble— _don’t answer that one_.”

Meera wisely refrains from just that.

“I still want you, I never stopped,” Cayde then says and crouches down in front of her. “But I gotta be honest with you, kid. That shit you pulled with Enceladus? That ain’t ever happening again, you hear? Swear by the resident ball in the sky, you scared _at least_ twenty years off me when you told me you’d unleased a _fuckin’_ _army of Exos_ on the premises, with a bullet wound in your side and halfway delirious.”

“And it won’t, Cayde,” she promises. “I swear it. This was—no, I don’t want to ever experience this ever again, and I _promise you_ , Cayde, that I will never—"

“Meera, _shut up_.”

There’s a stark difference between when a Vanguard gives their designated Guardian a suggestion, and when they issue an order.

This is an order.

Meera’s dead sure of it.

His arm snaps out and yanks her up into his arms before she even registers the movement.

Then their lips meet in a frenzied kiss, arms wrapping around each other and clinging to the other, and Meera presses herself as firmly against Cayde as she possibly can. He presses right back at her, metal lips nipping harshly at her fleshy, much softer ones, and a whirring groan escapes out from his vocal processors. However, she could not care less about the noises he’s making as she molds herself against his body, fingers tightening and finding purchase in the sturdy fabric of his cloak, while one leg lifts to wrap itself around his hip to anchor her body.

It immediately results in the two of them tipping over, with Cayde landing on his back and her on his chest.

“ _Meera_ ,” he sighs against her lips before he steals her breath with another searing kiss. “My Hunter, _my Light_.”

“Yours,” she fervently agrees and gasps when his hips press against hers. “ _Always yours_!”

“You are never,” he presses a fierce kiss against her lips before drawing back to look at her. “Doing,” once more. “That,” and another. “Again,” he growls in the end. “ _Ever_.”

An agreeing noise makes it out from the back of her throat and Meera keens insistently when one of Cayde’s hands drifts down from where its buried in her hair to instead caress her side and graze against the side of her breast.

“I am now going to be the most wonderous Ghost in all of existence,” Sundance suddenly drawls. “and calmly inform you that there’s a security guard on his way to the gardens due to a report of ‘unnerving mechanical and organic sounds coming from the leisure areas of the Tower’. _You’re welcome_.”

“I hate you,” Cayde groans against Meera’s lips before he reluctantly moves her off him and shoots his Ghost an annoyed look. “ _So much_.”

“Oh, spare me the indignity. I could have just left you here to fend for yourself and be discovered by a security guard whilst busy necking some poor Guardian. Imagine the gossip, Cayde.”

“ _So much_!” Cayde hisses as he pats down everything into place while getting onto his feet, and helps Meera up as well, only moments before a searing flashlight shines both of them directly into the eyes.

“Hunter Vanguard,” the guard greets with a salute. “I was not aware that you were already investigating the report.”

“Got it at the same time as you, my good man,” Cayde grins. “Turns out it was simply a Guardian having a rather… heated discussion with their Ghost, nothing else. The matter has been resolved, as you can see.”

“I—” the guard frowns and looks from Cayde to Meera, “Of course, I’ll get back to my post.”

“You do that,” Cayde agrees and waves him off with a forced smile. “I’ll finish up here.”

The guard is barely gone before Meera has to stifle a giggle with the back of her hand pressed hard against her lips. “Well, _something_ was heated, alright, but I doubt that my Ghost harbors such… _intense_ feelings towards me, Cayde.”

“He better not,” Cayde responds by growling into her ear. “Because I do _not_ do well with sharing.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” he murmurs and presses his lips once more against hers. “Traveler, but I’ve _missed you_!”

“Not as much as I’ve missed you,” she hums and once more wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose against his plating.

“Care to bet on that?”

“I don’t know if you’d have a chance at winning, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, guess I’ll just have to convince you, then.”

“By all means,” she giggles. “Do your worst.”

“Oh, I intend to!”

The two of them are gone in a flash of Light, leaving behind nothing but rumpled grass as the stars shine brightly above.


End file.
